


Dudley Answers the Door

by OldDVS



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Almost Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 00:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldDVS/pseuds/OldDVS
Summary: Dudley answers the door and has to deal with Them.  So he has a little fun with it.





	Dudley Answers the Door

Dudley Dursley answered the door after checking carefully. Through the distorted glass he could see that there was a pretty girl standing there. He opened the door and smiled broadly at her. A very pretty girl with blonde hair and red lips. She seemed to be looking over his shoulder into the depths of the house. 

"Is Harry in? Harry Potter?" she asked in a low, sultry voice. 

"Potter doesn't live here. But perhaps I can help you?" He tried not to leer. He had learned that it put women off.

"I know he doesn't live here, but I thought perhaps he might be here on a visit. The holidays, you know," she said, looking left and right as if he might have Potter tucked away behind the frost lined rosebushes.

"Haven't seen him," Dudley said, letting the resentment into his tone. It was quite annoying. This was the third woman this week looking for Potter. The other two had been pretty, too. It wasn't right, beautiful women looking up Potter this way. "Why do you want him, anyway?"

She laughed as if he had made a good joke. He stood up straighter and said, "No, really. Why the bloody hell would women be showing up here looking for Potter?"

She eyed him up and down and then decided to answer. Her eye took on the gleam of a conspirator sharing deep secrets as she leaned forward a little and said, "You’re his cousin, right? So you know he defeated the Dark Lord at Halloween. He's a hero, he's young and good looking, and he's rich. Of course he's going to be followed about. From your words I take it I'm not the only woman who's come here? And I thought I was so clever!" She pouted, apparently vexed with herself that her idea hadn't been original.

"Third this week. But you're all daft. Potter, rich? He doesn't have a penny in his pocket. Good looking? He's a scrawny git with glasses. And he's about as heroic as a mouse." The fool always ran away when confronted. If he could. Dudley smiled at some fond memories.

"Are you sure this is the Dursley residence?" The young woman leaned to check the number. "Of course Potter's rich. He got that reward. Fifty thousand galleons is nothing to sneeze at, you know. Plus all he must have inherited. He could be ugly as a bucket with all that, but perhaps you've not seem him recently? He's a very nice looking man! Although he is a little short." 

Galleons? Then she was one of Them. Dudley scowled. Who else would come looking for Potter, after all. And...money? Jealousy grew in Dudley's little heart. His mouth opened and he thought of the perfect thing to say. 

"I meant, why are you girls showing up here? Potter's gay, you know."

"Gay?" the woman's brow wrinkled as she repeated the word.

"Light on his feet? Camp as a row of tents? Likes boys?" Dudley recited, enjoying the dismay growing on her face. 

"That hardly seems possible," she said accusingly. "He dated girls at school. Chang, and that Weasley." Plainly, of the two, the woman disliked Weasley the most. Wasn't that the name of that family of red-headed idiots? 

"Didn't go anywhere, did it?" Dudley suggested, although of course he hadn't the least idea if what he said was true. Probably was, by the frown she was sporting now.

"He can't possibly be. It would be all over the Prophet. Not to mention the magazines."

"Yes, it should. The way he tarts about. The last boy he dragged home wore four inch heels!" Dudley was starting to enjoy this. Harry with some tall, cross-dressing bloke. It was a delicious image and he wished very much that it was true. A happier thought than Harry with this beautiful blonde on his arm. "I'm surprised he didn't make the papers long before this," he added, "considering how young he started."

The woman looked more and more unhappy. "I think you're lying," she said. "You're a nasty piece, aren't you? I'd heard he lived with awful Muggles, and it must have been true!"

Dudley shrugged. "Believe what you want. You didn't have to put up with..." He halted as if he was too refined to actually say whatever horrible things he had endured, and manufactured a shudder for effect. He watched the young lady turn and flounce away before he shut the door and had a good laugh. He couldn't wait to tell his father about it. The old man was usually in a foul mood when he got home from work, but maybe today he'd lighten up. Dudley decided he'd keep that part about Potter having money to himself, because it wouldn't help the old man's mood and it couldn't possibly be true anyway. Speaking of money, he needed to come up with another excuse for not having a job yet, too, or his mother would start fussing again. 

By six that evening, Rita Skeeter was gleefully dropping a handful of galleons into Eleanor Nott's hand. By seven that evening, Dudley had his dad roaring in delight at his tale of Potter preferences. At seven that morning, Harry Potter was sitting up at his breakfast table, forgotten fork in one hand, Prophet in the other, snarling, "How did they find OUT!" with enough force to cause the man sitting across from him to lift an eyebrow inquiringly. At nine in the morning, there was a knock on the Dursley door.

Dudley opened it and found a devastatingly handsome man on the step. He was wearing a satin cloak, tight pants and fancy boots. He had long golden hair and huge brown eyes. "Is Harry Potter in?" the man asked hopefully, looking over Dudley's shoulder to the dim interior of the room before turning an appraising eye on Dudley. After a moment the man shuddered delicately and looked over Dudley's shoulder again.

"Get lost," Dudley advised, even as he heard a distant pop which he was pretty sure was the sounds of wizards appearing out of thin air. He slammed the door, but three minutes later someone leaned on the bell.

"Who is it, Dudley dear?" came his mother's voice from the kitchen. 

"Wizards. Gay wizards." He peeked out. "A dozen of them," he exaggerated, in disgust. There were only four. Some of them were taking exception to the presence of the others and were having the kind of public confrontation that his mother hated, with admonishing fingers, raised voices and angry faces.

His mother made a worried sound. "All this stress, looking for a job, dearest. It's bad for you. I think we should schedule your annual check-up a bit early this year." She was easing over towards the phone as she spoke. There was another peal of the bell. 

Dudley stuck his head out and yelled, "He's not here! He'll never be here again! He ran off with...with his boyfriend. The banker!" He slammed the door shut. Instead of going away, that idiots were shouting again, louder and...pop...now there were five! Dudley slumped against the door and groaned. 

The next morning the headline of the Prophet screamed, "Harry Potter's Secret Goblin Lover?"

"Where are they getting this tripe?" Potter sighed against the warm naked chest of his not-at-all-goblin lover. 

"Who cares," Severus Snape muttered into the messy hair shoved up under his nose. "We can take advantage of it. If the truth ever comes out, no one will believe it any more than they believe the dozen even more ridiculous stories that came before."

Harry nodded, then said, "Severus," and began to gnaw on the bony shoulder nearest his lips. The newspaper fell to the floor, forgotten.


End file.
